


and you'll be in my heart

by sumirufus



Category: Rune Factory (Video Games), Rune Factory 2: A Fantasy Harvest Moon
Genre: Gen, Rune Factory Big Bang 2020, big old family drama and fluff all in one, i made myself cry a lot writing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:48:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26134480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sumirufus/pseuds/sumirufus
Summary: alicia, aria, and the struggles of being left behind. || written for the rune factory big bang 2020
Relationships: Alicia and Natalie, Aria and Alicia
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so i'm a little late because life exploded but here it is! i had a lot of fun writing this, alicia is a character who means a lot to me and i wanted to write mother-daughter stuff badly
> 
> i hope you enjoy this piece! it has got a lot of blood sweat and tears put into it, and i'm very appreciative of all the patience i've been shown during its creation

The bed is cold when Alicia wakes up.

She wakes up as she does every day, with the early morning sun spilling gently through the thin curtains. It’s early spring, giving the room an undeniable chill as Alicia forces herself to remove herself from the covers, and she suppresses the urge to shudder when her feet hit the floor. 

She moves into routine like clockwork; the cold water of the basin only serves to highlight the chill of the early year, but she has no time to dwell on that of course. From there, it’s her hair, fifty strokes for each side to tame it all (a relic from childhood, and her mother’s strictness, but it’s a familiar routine that’s frankly just  _ comforting _ at this point.

Because frankly, Alicia needs all the comfort she can get.)

Finally, her clothes. Maybe a little too breezy for the current weather, but it’s a familiar ensemble that puts her at ease. 

Alicia looks at herself in the mirror, at the face she’s seen a thousand times, and does her best to affix her usual smile onto it. She’s getting better at pasting it on, the longer Kyle is gone, but she quickly pushes that thought away. She’s done so well in pushing her feelings down - she can’t lose that progress now. As lonely as she is, she cannot afford to break down, because there’s someone here who  _ needs  _ her to keep together. 

Alicia takes a deep breath, collects herself, and heads downstairs. 

Unsurprisingly, Aria is already there, little legs dangling from her spot at the table. It’s a familiar sight that puts Alicia at ease.

(And simultaneously makes her feel so, so lonely. It shouldn’t just be two of them at the table. 

The third chair is conspicuously empty.)

“Morning, Aria,” Aria perks up at the sound of her voice, beaming at her as she usually does. There’s something very healing about seeing your child smile, Alicia thinks. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a log!” Alicia wonders if  _ all  _ children are as chipper in the early morning as her baby is. Given discussions with certain other parents around town, she at least knows Orland is a particular grump. Perhaps Alicia just got lucky. “I’ve already watered the fields today so don’t worry about that, Mom.”

“Just how early  _ do  _ you get up?” Alicia wonders aloud, as she proceeds to settle into the next part of her morning routine: breakfast. She might not be a stellar cook, but she’s certainly seen improvement over the years. 

Nowhere near as good as Kyle, yet, of course. But all things in due time.

It is simply like any other day. They eat together, discuss dreams last night and plans for the day (Aria will be home later, today, because she has a playdate with her cousins), and how the crops are doing. It is their routine, and it is their ordinary. 

For the two of them, this has been their normal far longer than anything else has been.

The thought puts a cold feeling in Alicia’s gut, so she ignores it.

Dishes are cleared, Aria’s school books are gathered, and the chill of the early spring morning greets them both as they make their way out of the house. Aria lets out a little sneeze, and Alicia spends a moment fussing with a scarf for her to keep her warm. 

Even though the flowers are blooming in Alvarna, it’s still so cold. Aria’s little fingers feel like ice in Alicia’s hand as they walk together to school, just like they do every morning. 

(Aria asked her once, why she insists on walking her to school when she’s  _ old enough  _ to do it herself.

It had been difficult to explain just how meaningful the school building was to Alicia now that it was the only thing she had  _ left  _ of the man who worked so hard to see it built.)

The walk, as always, is uneventful. As soon as they arrive at the school grounds, Aria takes off as always. Waving goodbye over her shoulder -- “See you later, Mom!” -- as she runs to join the twins, Leanne, and the boys. They’re all good kids, Alicia thinks, watching them gather so naturally. They gather around Aria like it’s the most natural thing in the world to them, even Jake’s grouchy son, even Dorothy’s shy boy.

It’s a little difficult to watch, in a way. Aria is so like Kyle like that, a presence that simply drew people to them both. 

It’s lucky she inherited that from Kyle. 

But it does make Alicia feel strangely lonely, as she watches the children crowd into school together. 

A cold chill runs down her spine. She ignores it.


	2. Chapter 2

“It’s just a common flu, thankfully,” Natalie says as she removes the thermometer from a very miserable-looking Aria’s mouth. “It’ll be uncomfortable, but with plenty of rest she’ll be up and about again in no time.” 

(Alicia can feel the tension ease from her shoulders. She hopes it isn’t quite as obvious as it feels to her. Of course it’s only the flu, she’s being so dramatic thinking of all the other things it could possibly be.)

“Drink plenty of water,” Natalie continues as she rises from her place at Aria’s bedside. “And stay home from school until your fever dies down.  _ And  _ under  _ no  _ circumstances are you to work the fields until you’re better, young lady.”

This, Aria does not like. Immediately, she’s snapped up from her slouched posture, eyes wide and pleading, grabbing ahold of Natalie’s sleeve as though to stop her from leaving entirely.

“Grandmaaa! Please! I’m super healthy! I’ll be up in time in no time!” She’s doing the thing, Alicia notes, where she starts making her voice sound so  _ sad _ and  _ desperate,  _ because she knows this works on most adults. Mana in particular has a bad habit of immediately giving in to her demands, and then justifying it with something like “I’m her auntie, it’s what I do!” which, while objectively funny, has been profoundly unhelpful to Alicia in the past.

She can’t believe she’s thinking this, but  _ thankfully  _ Natalie is not  _ most adults.  _ With practiced ease (the practice having come from Alicia’s youth, of course), she has removed her sleeve from Aria’s grasp and pushed her gently but firmly back into bed. 

“Absolutely not,” She says, pulling up the sheets around her granddaughter despite the latter’s protests. “And stop making those puppy eyes at your mother, she’s not going to side with you.  _ Are you _ , Alicia?”

Alicia thinks she’s been doing pretty well suppressing her laughter at the scene before her so far, but at this, she really can’t help laughing just a little bit. As Natalie once again moves away from the bed, Alicia goes to take her place smoothing down Aria’s hair as she settles herself on the stool they’ve been taking turns occupying.

“You heard the doctor,” Her amusement is barely concealed, and she can tell because Aria has started puffing out her cheeks quite spectacularly. “Aren’t you glad you don’t have to go to school? I’m sure Sera and Serena would love to stay home.”

“I’m not them,” Aria grumbles, but relents at last as Natalie finishes collecting her things. Alicia exchanges a look with her mother, who shakes her head.

“I can make my own way downstairs, thank you. If I know anything about your daughter she’ll be out those sheets the moment you take your eyes off of her,” Natalie rolls her eyes as she speaks, but she’s doing a terrible job of hiding the fondness in her voice. 

“Thanks for stopping by,” Alicia says instead, lips quirking into a smile despite herself. “I mean, you’d be a pretty terrible doctor if you didn’t, but we appreciate it anyway.” 

“Don’t start,” Natalie grouses back. “And don’t you go soft on her the minute I’m out the door, either.”

“I know, I know. I’m a really scary mother when you’re not around, actually. I had a great reference.” 

“What did I just say about not starting?” Natalie’s voice is faint, coming from halfway down the stairs, and before Alicia can get one last quip in, the sound of the front door opening and promptly shutting cuts her off. Well then. 

With a little sigh, Alicia turns her attention back to her still-pouting daughter. Desperately suppressing more laughter at the fact her expression has not changed at all, Alicia gently pokes a single puffed cheek. If this were any other day, perhaps Aria’s pout would begin to weaken as she tried Very Hard not to laugh, but today was not any other day, and so the pout remains.

“If you keep that up, your face is going to get stuck like that, baby.”

“Don’t care.”

“You want to go into school looking like a grumpy Wooly forever?”

“I don’t look like a grumpy Wooly!” 

“You do,” Alicia sing-songs. “The grumpiest Wooly there ever was.”

Instead of replying, Aria pulls her blankets over her head, leaving Alicia faced with a grumpy lump on the bed. 

(She winces. She can’t help it, because she feels like she’s chosen the wrong thing to say, the wrong actions to take. Natalie would know better, even if Alicia didn’t always realise it at the time.

Kyle wouldn’t make mistakes like this. Kyle would know what to do to make their grumpy Wooly smile, because Kyle  _ always  _ knew what to say. 

Alicia takes a deep breath.)

“Well, since you’re stuck here for the time being, why don’t I do something fun for you? You can stay in bed, so Grandma won’t get mad at either of us.”

Hesitantly, Aria peeks out from under the sheets.

“What kind of thing...” It’s less a question and more a statement, but Alicia will take it. 

“I’ll read your fortune for you.”

Aria’s eyes narrow in suspicion. 

“You’re just going to tell me the crystal ball says to stay in bed, aren’t you?”

At that, Alicia really can’t help but let out a bark of laughter. It’s such an  _ Aria  _ thing to say that her fear is blown away for a moment, replaced simply with the love she has for the most precious thing in her life. 

“As tempting as that is, I promise you I won’t,” As she speaks, Aria continues to cautiously edge her way out the blankets. That’s a promising sign, so Alicia takes a step closer to the doorway. “We won’t be using the crystal ball today at all, as a matter of fact. Think of this as a very special service.”

“How are you going to tell my fortune without it?” She sounds almost indignant as Alicia exits the bedroom. Fortunately, her indignancy is not followed by the sound of footsteps, so Alicia can  _ assume  _ her little treasure has decided to stay in bed for the moment. Thankfully, she keeps her cards in her bedroom, so that’s more than enough time to collect her things before Aria makes an escape. 

By the time she returns, Aria has wiggled her way into sitting up in bed, still with a look of suspicion on her face. Alicia briefly wonders if she or Ray had ever been so suspicious of their own mother in their youth, but now is not the time to reminisce on such things. A little shuffling around of a side table and stool later, and she’s set; it’s not a very fancy set up, certainly, but settling herself on the other side of the table with her cards in hand has proven enough to draw Aria’s attention fully to what she’s up to.

Good. That means this wasn’t the wrong thing to do.

“Here,” She holds out the deck of cards to Aria, who regards her with an expression that somehow combines skepticism and curiosity. “I need you to cut the deck.”

“Why me?”

“Because if  _ I  _ cut them, it’d be cut according to my feelings,” She nods towards the cards as though to encourage Aria. “I’m telling your fortune today, aren’t I? So the cards need to respond to  _ you _ .”

Aria bites her lip for a moment, then nods;  _ that makes sense _ , her body language seems to say as she hesitantly accepts the deck, holding them carefully in her little hands. There is a pause as she considers the cards, their frayed edges and carefully designed backs. She almost makes a show of it unconsciously, settling the two piles gently on the table, before fixing Alicia with another expectant gaze. Again, Alicia nods to encourage her.

“Now, I want you to put them back into one pile, however you’d like them to fit. And I want you to concentrate really hard on the spirits as you do so, so they know how to answer us best.”

It’s an unusually serious tone Alicia has taken on, if Aria’s quiet cooperation is anything to go by. The cards are a different case to her crystal ball; she remembers purchasing them from a travelling merchant when she was younger, much younger, and how Natalie had scolded her for spending her pocket money on something so frivolous. She remembers spending time holed up in her room with the cards, closing her eyes for so long she’d nearly fallen asleep once. Learning their meanings, learning to read them, learning to find her own way.

It’s not that the crystal ball isn’t important. No fortune-teller worth her salt would go without one. But the cards are special, have been special for years.

It’s quite nice to see her daughter with them, she thinks. Maybe one day Aria might take an interest too.

By the time she’s finished thinking, Aria is gently tapping the cards back into a tidy pile, as though they’d never been split in the first place. Solemnly, Alicia taps the deck, once, twice, three times, before proceeding to spread them unceremoniously across the table. Aria breaks the silence with a little gasp of indignation.

“Mom! I just made them neat again!”

“You can’t pick your cards if you can’t see them all,” Alicia laughs back, as once again Aria’s cheeks begin to puff indignantly. “Come on baby, I’ll put them back in order once you’ve chosen. Let’s go for five cards today.”

Rolling her eyes quite dramatically, the way children are wont to do, Aria nevertheless obeys. Alicia isn’t actually sure how long it takes for her to carefully select each individual card, but she’s not sure it matters; Aria’s ever-shifting expressions are more than enough entertainment for her while she waits.

(She’s like her father, in that respect; Kyle, who always wore his heart on his sleeve. Kyle, who couldn’t hide anything if his life depended on it. 

That’s how she knows he hasn’t run away. That’s how she knows they haven’t been abandoned, because she trusts him more than anything. Wherever he is, it is not by choice, she knows this, she  _ knows this _ .

But it still hurts. It still hurts so much.)

“I’m finished,” Aria’s prompting startles her slightly, but she settles easily into her usual smile almost instinctively. Five cards are laid out in a neat row (is it because of the farming she does that she’s so particular about clean rows? Something to ask her when she’s feeling better, Alicia thinks), waiting to be appraised. 

As promised, Alicia takes a moment to gather the rest of the cards up, and turns her full attention to Aria’s spread.

“Today, we’re going to have a little look at your past, present, and future,” Alicia injects her voice with a certain amount of grandiosity, to sell it just a little more. She’s got to make sure this is entertaining for Aria, after all. “Starting from far, faaar into the past, and ending far, faaar into the future. You ready, baby?”

Aria nods, wide-eyed with wonder. 

“Then let’s have a look at your fortune together.”

With practiced ease, and a certain amount of dramatic flair, one by one Alicia flips the cards over. The Four of Wands, the Eight of Cups; the Lovers; the Tower; and finally, Death.

There is silence for a long while, as Alicia contemplates the cards in front of her. The Tower, in particular, stares up at her as though  _ mocking  _ her. Of all the cards for Aria to choose, it’s that one that unsettles Alicia the most.

“Mom?” Aria’s question is followed by a short cough, though whether it’s from the cold or another prompt, Alicia can’t quite say. “Is it bad?”

“No,” The response is immediate, but not quite truthful. She does her best to hide that fact. “Sometimes I need a minute to read them together, that’s all. Let’s start at the very beginning.”

She taps her finger on the Four of Wands, drawing Aria’s attention to it (and  _ away  _ from the Tower, for now.)

“This one’s easy. This represents home and celebration,” As she speaks, a smile can’t help but spread across her face. “I wonder if you can guess what in your past this could be?”

Aria’s nose wrinkles as her expression shifts into a contemplative frown. Her thought is punctuated by the occasional sniffle, but at last she heaves a grand old sigh and shakes her head.

“I dunno. We haven’t moved house or anything…”

“Not that kind of home,” The gentle admonishment comes with a little laugh. “This represents when you were born, Aria. Your grandma helped deliver you right in this house, and it was the happiest day of your father and I’s life.”

“Really?” The way Aria regards her makes her heart ache a little; as though she can’t quite believe what Alicia is saying. “Leanne always says that getting married is the best day of your life, though. And Leanne knows a lot of things.”

“Well, maybe for some people, but for me,” She reaches out to ruffle her daughter’s hair gently, lovingly. “I’ll never forget how happy I was to hold you that first time. Even your Grandma was crying!”

“Grandma can  _ cry? _ ” 

Alicia lets out a short bark of laughter at that; she’d had much the same thought that day, seeing Natalie hold Aria in her swaddling cloth with tears streaming down her cheeks. It had been a side to her mother she’d simply never seen before.

“Of course she can, but don’t you dare tell her I told you! She doesn’t like to admit it.”

“Her secret is safe with me,” Aria nods solemnly, before turning her eyes back to the cards. “So what’s next?”

“Let’s see… The Eight of Cups, representing your recent past,” Alicia isn’t in a particular hurry to tell Aria the next meaning, but she’s not quick enough to think of a white lie to cover it. “It symbolises walking away, or being left behind.”

There is silence for a moment. It’s clear that both of them know  _ exactly  _ what this particular card is referring to, and neither of them want to think about it too much.

(Even if Alicia trusts Kyle, because of how long she’s known him, does Aria feel the same way?

Does she think her father doesn’t love her?

Alicia is afraid to ask her.)

“Next, the Lovers,” Eager to change the mood that has settled over the two of them, Alicia pushes on. Pasting a smile to her face, she waggles her eyebrows at her daughter, who is beginning to turn slightly pink. “Now this doesn’t  _ always  _ represent love, but unions and partnerships. So is there anything you’d like to tell your mom today, Aria?”

The pink creeping up her cheeks has very quickly morphed into red, as she shakes her head as violently as possible.

“Nope! There’s nothing!”

“Are you sure? Seems like something -- or maybe some _ one _ is on your mind.”

“There isn’t!”

“Not even a hint?”

“Nope!”

“Hm… I suppose I’ll just have to guess, then,” The look on Aria’s face, horror and shame all mixed in at once, is priceless. “Let’s see… Well, you’ve been walking back from school with a lot of the kids lately, haven’t you? But if I had to say who you’ve been with the most, it’d probably be--”

“ _ Mom! _ ” Quick as a flash (despite her sickness, which is quite impressive), Aria whips out the pillow from behind her back and  _ launches  _ it at Alicia cackling figure. It’s not a hard throw at all, and the material of the pillow does very little to muffle her laughter, but she’ll take that if it makes Aria feel a little better. “Aren’t we reading my fortune?! This isn’t what you said you were gonna do!”

“Love fortune is my  _ specialty, _ ” Alicia points out, gently tossing back the pillow to her incensed child. “I can give you a compatibility reading if you eat all your vegetables. I’ll have to make nice with whoever our future in-laws will be, too...”

“ _ No, thank you! _ Can we  _ please  _ just move on?”

“Okay, okay,” Putting her hands up in mock-surrender, Alicia returns her attention once more to the cards. “The next two are your future, so I’ll read them together for you.”

She hadn’t exactly been looking forward to this, but she can’t really avoid it either. Keeping a relaxed look on her face is difficult, but at the very least she’s had plenty of practice lately.

“Now before you panic, Death doesn’t mean  _ death _ ,” She tries her very best to keep her tone jovial. “It’s  _ this one _ you should be worrying about.” Tapping the Tower with a single finger, she fixes Aria with a serious gaze. Worryingly, Aria goes still. 

“The Tower comes before disaster,” She goes on. “Impending change and adversity. But that doesn’t mean it has to be a  _ scary  _ thing--” (Quite honestly, she’s saying that far more for herself than anyone else. Because she doesn’t want to think about that, of Aria having to struggle any more than she already is.) “-- And the good news is Death coming after it.”

Aria is seemingly transfixed by her words, her eyes practically boring holes into the illustrations on the cards. 

(Wryly, Alicia realises that she  _ has  _ managed to succeed in getting her daughter to stay in bed, at the very least.)

“Death after the Tower can be read as the end to a cycle. New beginnings, and transformation. So whatever is coming towards you in the future, you’ll be able to put an end to it.” 

The silence that follows is not a heavy one, but it still leaves a heavy feeling in Alicia’s chest. Aria nods her head slowly, eventually reaching out to touch Death gently.

“I like this fortune,” She says at last, regarding Alicia with sparkling eyes. There’s something in her gaze that Alicia can’t quite place -- determination, of sorts, but something else too, and it leaves her wondering what  _ exactly  _ Aria is reading into this fortune without her knowing.

It frightens her a little to think of that.

“You must have, since you’ve stayed still this entire time,” Alicia jokes instead, pushing down her trepidation. The fortune ended positively. Whatever is on the way for Aria, she will overcome it.

(It doesn’t make her any less worried about her to think like that, though.)

“Any ideas on what might be on the horizon for you, then?”

“A few,” Aria admits, finally settling herself back under the covers. “First is this cold! I’m going to beat it so I can do everything else I have to do.”

“Next time you’re sick, maybe I  _ will  _ just say the crystal ball told you to stay in bed,” Alicia laughs, finally rising from the little stool, and moving to replace the furniture she had shifted about earlier and gather her cards. “I’m sure Grandma won’t be pleased to hear that you’d listen to my fortunes over her medical advice. We’ll keep it a secret, shall we?”

“Pinkie swear,” Aria solemnly holds out her pinkie as though to emphasise her point. With equal solemnity, Alicia links their fingers together, and with an emphatic shake, the deal is sealed.

“Now, I think it’s time for a certain sick kid to get some sleep,” Kneeling next to the bed for a moment, Alicia presses a gentle kiss to Aria’s (still very hot) forehead. “And don’t even  _ think  _ about trying to sneak out, unless you want Grandma to yell at both of us.”

“I wooooon’t,” That doesn’t sound very convincing, frankly, but she looks comfortable enough bundled up under the blankets Alicia decides to believe it. “G’night, Mom.”

“Sleep tight, baby. I’ll come take your temperature again later.”

With that, Alicia takes her leave. The bedroom door shuts with a gentle  _ click  _ behind her, and at last, she lets out a little sigh.

Her fortunes always come true. She knows this, no matter how many people might not believe her. She should be concentrating on the good things. It’s not  _ like her  _ to worry about things like this at all, is it? 

Her gaze falls to the cards in her hand. 

The Four of Cups looks back up at her, and something twists in her gut again.


	3. Chapter 3

The house is too dark. Too quiet. Too  _ loud _ at the same time. 

Alicia finds herself not pacing, but seated at the dinner table, fingers drumming out an impatient rhythm. The tick-tocks of the clock are only aggravating her further, mocking her with every passing seconds.

_ Tick-tock. _ Aria’s late.  _ Tick-tock _ . She should be home by now.  _ Tick-tock.  _ Where is she when it’s this late out?  _ Tick-tock.  _

You’re a terrible mother.  _ Tick-tock.  _

You don’t even know where she is.

_ Tick-tock.  _

_ Tick-tock. _

_ Click. _

Alicia nearly jumps out of her skin when she hears the door swing open. Time hasn’t stopped, of course it hasn’t, but despite the torturous ticking it’s how she  _ felt  _ sitting alone in a dimly-lit house like this. 

(It hadn’t occurred to her how unused to being alone she is.)

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly she’s up from the table, how she nearly trips over herself trying to get to the door. The desperation she feels in her heart is almost physically sickening. 

“Aria? Baby, what time do you think this…”

‘ _ Is’ _ is what she was going to say next, but the words die in her throat. 

She’s no stranger to Aria coming home slightly worse for wear, of course she isn’t; she knows her daughter, and she’d be willfully ignorant to believe that Aria would ever hesitate to crouch down in the dirt and mud the way Leanne does. Aria is not afraid of the muck, or else she wouldn’t insist on working the fields every day. Aria does not shy away from the outdoors like Leonel might. She’s much more rambunctious than either of the twins are, than Roy and Cammy are put together. She’s never be one to worry about her clothing getting dirt, or mud and sweat sticking to her everyone. That’s never been Aria, it’s never what Alicia would  _ want  _ for her. 

Dirt and mud is one thing. A little blood from a scraped knee is one thing. Her daughter sporting bandages around her head, arms, and legs, is a  _ whole new thing entirely. _

When Aria meets her eyes, her daughter’s gaze is filled with an emotion Alicia can’t quite place, but there’s no time to think about that because she’s rushing to her side, hands hovering uselessly because she has no idea whether to squeeze her daughter in her arms or avoid touching her at all or--

“What  _ happened  _ to you?” Is all she can manage, and she’s surprised at how  _ loud  _ her voice is.

Aria does not respond, fixing her gaze to the floor.

“Aria, don’t ignore me,” Alicia opts for placing her hands on her daughter’s shoulders at last. “Where have you  _ been _ ?”

“Around,” Aria mumbles, in response. 

“Around  _ where? _ ”

“Around.” 

Something flares up in Alicia; it’s not quite anger, but it feels like it. It’s not frustration either, but it’s not  _ not  _ that either, and it sets Alicia’s mouth into a hard line.

“Look at me,” Her voice comes out sharper than she intends it to, and Aria jolts, but refuses to lift her gaze. “These bandages didn’t come out of nowhere, Aria. What  _ happened  _ to you?”

Again, silence. 

Tick-tock.

Tick-tock.

Alicia makes a noise somewhere between annoyance and resignation, releasing Aria’s shoulders to move towards the door.

“I’m assuming you went to Grandma, so I suppose I’ll just have to ask her, won’t I?” 

“No!” 

“No? Does Grandma know something I should?”

“Grandma doesn’t know!” 

“If Grandma doesn’t, then who bandaged you up, hm?”

Aria’s little hands clench into fists by her sides. Alicia wishes she would  _ look at her. _

“... Uncle Ray did…”

“And why did Uncle Ray have to patch you up?”

“I fell,” Aria mutters. 

“You  _ fell? _ ”

“From a tree.”

“And you don’t think someone would have come to get me if you’d  _ fallen  _ from a  _ tree  _ at this time of night?”

The feeling is churning in Alicia’s chest, swirling around and around like a whirlpool. It’s almost sickening in a way, the way it’s clogging up her throat and preventing her from breathing properly. She can barely look at Aria, and yet it’s so hard to pull her eyes away from her little figure.

“They wouldn’t have to come get you! I can take care of myself!”

Something about that statement  _ hits  _ her, hard. For a moment Alicia goes completely still. For a moment, her mind simply goes  _ blank  _ as she mulls that over, and over, and over and over and over.

Taking care of herself? All on her own?

It makes Alicia feel-- feel like--

“And do you think you _ know _ how to take care of yourself?” The words come unbidden, laced with an emotion that she just cannot  _ name  _ right now; her heart thumping in her chest, the feeling twisted painfully in her stomach as though she has been stabbed. “You have  _ no idea  _ what life is like outside this town, do you?”

“I do! I know  _ plenty! _ ”

“No you  _ don’t! _ ” 

Dimly, somewhere in the back of her mind, the only part that isn’t consumed with the disgusting feeling creeping up her throat, Alicia realises she sounds like her mother. 

“Why can’t you trust me?!” Numbly, she realises tears are gathering in Aria’s eyes. “I know what I’m doing! I know what I have to do!”

“If you knew what you were doing, you wouldn’t need Ray to patch you up this late at night, would you? There are  _ monsters  _ just outside Alvarna! Do you think you’re strong enough to stand up to them? You’re only a  _ child! _ ”

Now, Aria’s gaze has hardened, her mouth set into a firm line despite the tears threatening to overflow. Again, again, that feeling twists in her chest, almost rendering her speechless. 

“I’ll ask one more time, Aria:  _ where have you been? _ ”

Tick-tock.

Tick-tock.

Aria’s gaze falls to the floor for just a moment, and her little shoulders heave with a barely-contained sob. The sight of it makes Alicia feel as though she has been punched, but she doesn’t even have time to react before Aria bolts to the door, throwing it open with more force than Alicia even thought  _ possible  _ for a child of her age.

“I’m going to Aunt Mana’s!” She declares, her voice thick with unshed tears. “Don’t follow me!”

The door slams behind her, a noise loud enough to feel as though it has shaken the entire house.

Tick-tock.

Alicia’s entire body feels numb. There is a horrible moment of  _ nothingness  _ that consumes her whole body, and she very nearly lets her legs give out from under her. Catching herself in the nick of time, it takes every bit of willpower left in her to pull herself over to a chair and collect herself.

She isn’t sure how long she sits there in silence, with naught but the infernal  _ ticking  _ of the clock to keep her company. She’s not cut out for this. What was she even thinking, getting all worked up like that? That’s not what Alicia has  _ ever  _ been like, has it? 

(Except… Except with her mother, really. What does she make of  _ that? _ )

It wasn’t as though she was  _ angry  _ at Aria, so why had she shouted? Why had she sent her away  _ again  _ when all she’d wanted was for her to come home?

Alicia takes a deep, shaking breath, and stands up.

The clock reads slightly past 10 o’clock. It’s not too late, then; Natalie will still be up, even if the clinic is closed. It’s a very split-second decision, but with that decided Alicia at least feels as though she has something of a purpose. It’s nearly pitch-black outside when she leaves the house, but it’s as though the gentle lights in Alvarna’s street call to her, to bring her somewhere she isn’t  _ alone _ . Unsurprisingly, the clinic is very much locked when Alicia’s tired feet finally arrive there, but the light is on upstairs in Natalie’s room. 

For just a fraction of a moment, Alicia hesitates. 

It’s not that she’s never gone to her mother for advice, even if their relationship had been rough in the past. There’s simply a part of her that feels  _ ashamed  _ for being here, somehow. But that’s a profoundly unhelpful way to think of things, and Alicia believes in the power of putting positive thinking into motion if the universe won’t do it itself, so she knocks (loudly) anyway.

Natalie looks severely disgruntled when the door at last opens, until she sees the look on Alicia’s face.

(She  _ must  _ look a state if Natalie is softening at the sight of her at this time of night. What an indicator  _ that  _ is.)

“I take it this isn’t a leisure visit,” It’s not quite a joke, but it is as close as Natalie is going to get to one. Alicia shakes her head. “Is Aria sick again? Shall I fetch the first aid kit?”

“No, it’s--” Her voice  _ breaks,  _ of all things. It shocks both of them, if the look on her mother’s face is anything to go by. “She’s staying with Mana tonight. I,” She swallows thickly, and finally,  _ finally _ , do tears start to gather in her eyes. “I don’t know when she’s coming home.”

Wordlessly, Natalie steps closer to her, and takes her hand. She feels like a little girl again as her mother leads her inside, shutting the door gently behind her, guiding her to sit at the table as though Alicia might fall if she didn’t hold on to her. 

(Privately, she thinks that might actually be the case. How strange that it would be  _ now _ , as a woman with a child, that she feels the most childish in the face of her mother.)

“I’ll pop the kettle on and make some tea, you just stay there and collect yourself for now.” Natalie’s tone is strict, but somehow  _ gentle  _ in a way that puts Alicia at ease. A numb nod in response and she’s left alone again, but it doesn’t feel nearly as  _ suffocating  _ this time. There is no clock to mock her in silence, only the muffled sounds of Natalie clattering about the kitchen, followed by the eventual gradual whistle of the kettle heating up on the stove. 

It feels alive. Lived in. The thought of it brings her to tears properly this time, but she simply couldn’t explain  _ why _ .

Not long after, and Natalie returns with two steaming mugs, each giving off a pleasantly floral scent. Alicia accepts hers gratefully, and takes a long drink despite the temperature. If anything, the heat of it is soothing, and it’s only once she’s heaved a sigh and laid the mug to rest on the table again that Natalie finally speaks.

“I take it you had a fight with the little one?”

Alicia laughs mirthlessly.

“Was it that obvious?”

“You’re not going to like hearing this, but you look just like you used to when we fought all the time. I supposed that with Aria staying elsewhere tonight it was an obvious enough explanation.”

“I did  _ not  _ like hearing that, you’re right,” Her attempt to inject her voice with humour falls sorely flat, and she winces. “I’ve never shouted like that before. Even with you.”

“Tell me what happened,” Natalie reaches a hand across the table, gently covering Alicia’s with her own. It’s such a little gesture, but it assures Alicia -- that someone is here with her,  _ for  _ her.

“She came back so late,” She begins, and another wave of that feeling seems to smash into her out of nowhere, leaving her unable to breathe for a moment. “She was all bandaged up, I thought you’d done it at first, but apparently Ray was the one who did it. I’ve never seen her like that before. And I just couldn’t get out of my head  _ what happened to you? Where have you been?  _ And she just… Didn’t answer me at all. Told me she could do it all herself.” 

Her gaze trailed lower and lower to the floor as she spoke; she hadn’t noticed she’d been shaking until Natalie began to stroke her thumb gently across her hand, as though to ground her. Without thinking, her grip on her mother’s hand tightened. 

“I don’t know why I  _ shouted  _ at her,” She admits after a moment. “I don’t know why I…”

“May I interrupt?” Natalie interrupted regardless, drawing Alicia’s eyes back to her. “I think, Alicia, you have been under a horrible amount of stress for a long time now. And I think it’s all finally catching up to you.”

“Stress?” Alicia repeats, the word alien on her tongue. “I’m not exactly the kind of person who really…  _ Does that _ , you know.”

Natalie shoots her a flat look.

“You might like to think of yourself as above it, but you’re as human as the rest of us, Alicia,” This is more like the Natalie she knows, her usual strict tone back in full force. “Tell me something. If Jake vanished tomorrow, and Yue needed support, would you say she simply didn’t  _ do  _ stress?”

Alicia blinks.

“What? I--”

“Or if Rosalind went off on a trip, never to be heard from again, do you think Ray would simply be able to cope with that?”

“Mom--”

“Answer me, Alicia.”

“... No,” She relents at last. “But I--”

“But you what?”

“Would you let me  _ finish? _ ” It comes out snappier than Alicia intends, but she doesn’t exactly feel bad about it. “I just feel like that’s-- different.”

“How is it different? Is it okay for them to struggle, but not for you?”

Silence. 

Natalie sighs.

“I have a theory I’d like to talk through. Will you listen to me?”

All she can manage is a small, almost imperceptible nod.

“I think,” Natalie begins. “That you see an awful lot of Kyle in Aria, don’t you?”

“... Yes.”

“I thought so. Alicia, have you ever stopped to think about how you’ve been feeling through this? Because the way it seems to me, it seems as though you’re afraid.”

“Of  _ what? _ ”

“Would you let  _ me  _ finish? Honestly, I don’t know where you get it from,” Natalie huffs, though it’s not an unkind admonishment.  _ Somehow _ . “I think that you’re afraid that one day Aria is going to vanish from right in front of you, Alicia. I can speak from experience,  _ sometimes _ , when you’re worried about someone, you don’t really understand how worried you are about them. That you want what’s best for them, and for them to understand that you love them. But when you’re that worked up about them, because you  _ care _ about them, it’s difficult to not get emotional.”

There is a pause for a moment, as Natalie allows her words to settle over Alicia, before she presses on.

“Now the trouble is, you seem to think Aria is a copy of Kyle, but frankly I can see a  _ great deal  _ of you in her. And that includes her stubbornness. So now you know how  _ I  _ felt,” (Alicia lets out a mirthful snort at that.) “You’re not a bad mother for worrying about her, Alicia. You’re not a bad mother for feeling alone. For goodness’ sake, your  _ husband  _ has vanished without a word! And you and I both know Kyle, I  _ know  _ you know he wouldn’t walk out without a very good reason. But even  _ with  _ a good reason, you are still hurting. You are raising that girl all by yourself, and you won’t even let yourself grieve.”

As Natalie speaks, a new feeling washes over Alicia. Partially  _ relief _ for one, to hear someone voice these sentiments to her, as though to absolve her of everything she’s been bottling up inside for so long. The tears that had been gathering in her eyes before now begin to spill down her cheeks freely, and it’s all that she can do to muffle a sob as she clings on to her mother’s hand.

“I miss him,” She gasps out, and it’s as though the weight has been lifted from her shoulders. “I miss him every day. And every day I wait for him to come through the door, and he never does! And I  _ know  _ one day he’ll come home, I believe in him. But I just--” She shudders to a stop again, the emotions overwhelming her for a moment. “When Aria didn’t come home, I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact I didn’t know where she  _ was _ , who she was  _ with _ \-- and if something happened to her too, I--!”

In what feels like only a second, Natalie rises from her chair, and wraps Alicia in her arms, a gentle hand combing through her hair. It’s been such a long time since her mother held her, Alicia realises, and something in her simply  _ breaks _ . 

She has a vague memory of a time long since passed, before Ray was even born. Of a time she’d fallen over and scraped both her knees, and she’d been so tiny back then all she knew how to do in response was wail. She remembers Natalie had been there, had scooped her up and told her off immediately, wiped her bloodstained legs with alcohol that  _ stung _ .

And then she’d held her. Held her and stroked her hair like this, until she’d stopped crying.

If she’d been slightly more lucid, perhaps she’d have been embarrassed, acting as childish as she was. 

But in the present moment, Alicia can’t bring herself to care.

It feels like an age before she’s finally finished crying, but even though she feels  _ exhausted _ , it’s as though a weight has been lifted. She moves to untangle herself from the mess of limbs and hair she’s become, but Natalie holds on.

“You are not alone, Alicia,” She says instead, resting her cheek on the top of her head. “I know we haven’t always got along. But you are my daughter, and I only want to see you happy.”

It’s difficult to find the words she needs to express to Natalie, somehow. It’s not as though she needs to give a  _ speech,  _ but somehow just what she wants to say doesn’t feel like enough.

She’ll give it a try anyway.

“Thanks, Mother,” It’s barely above a whisper, her voice still thick with tears. Natalie hums a noncommittal response, but Alicia supposes that’ll mostly just be embarrassment. It’s a new and frightening thing for the two of them to be so… Vulnerable with each other. Even with their relationship on the mend, so many years of their lives had been taken up with their arguments.

In all honesty, Alicia prefers this. 

“I can’t believe I’ve turned into you,” She manages with a shaky laugh, and this time Natalie relents when she moves to extract herself. “My worst nightmare came true.”

“You are  _ very lucky  _ I am in a good mood tonight,” Her mother grouses back, giving her head one more awkward pat before the moment is over. “I take it you’ll be staying the night, then.”

“I don’t have anything with me,” She’d been so preoccupied with  _ getting  _ here she hadn’t thought through any of the logistics. Natalie gives a dismissive wave, accompanied by a dismissive sniff.

“I’m sure I’ll have a nightgown you can borrow for one night,” She insists. “I’m not having you go back to that house on your own while you’re in this state. You’ll get a proper eight hours of sleep, and deal with it all tomorrow, understand?”

“Yes, Mother,” Alicia makes a show of rolling her eyes, but can’t stop the fond edge from creeping into her voice.

With no other room in the clinic, given the expanding of the family since Ray got married, Alicia finds herself being tucked into bed by a very insistent Natalie on one of the cots in the infirmary itself. 

Yet, despite the distance between her and the others in the house, as sleep finally comes to claim her, she feels less alone than she has for a long, long time.


	4. Chapter 4

It’s still early enough that the sun hasn’t quite risen when Alicia makes her way into the general store. It’s unusual for her to be up this early, but it also isn’t often that Alicia has slept as well as she did last night. 

Unsurprisingly, and much to Alicia’s relief, Mana is already stacking the morning’s shelves, perched atop a little stepladder as she sorts through the coming day’s deals. Alicia announces her presence with a little cough (so as not to send her falling  _ off  _ the ladder, like an unfortunate past incident), and Mana rounds on her with concern plain on her face.

“Alicia! Good morning,” She wobbles down from her spot, hurrying over to grab Alicia’s hands. “Is everything alright? Aria was in a complete state when she got here last night. Dad and I managed to calm her down, but…”

“We had a… Bit of a tiff,” Alicia admits, a wry smile on her face. “I spent the night at the clinic to clear my head a bit. How is she?”

“She’s putting on a brave face. She came downstairs this morning and told us she was heading off to school early, but she looked as though she was going to cry.” Mana shakes her head, the concern on her face deepening. “I heard a little bit about what happened, and I  _ did  _ tell her off for staying out so late and making you worry, but… I hope I didn’t overstep.”

“Not at all. I’m glad she came to you, Mana, I mean it. I’m going to talk to her when she gets home. Give her some time to unwind with her friends, you know.”

“I think that’s a good idea. Let her take it at her own pace.”

“Mm,” Alicia nods, and glances at the pile of boxes still littered next to the stepladder. “Need a hand at all? I’m not busy.”

“Oh! Thank you, but don’t worry about it, they’re mostly empty,” Reminded of her initial task, Mana returns to work once again (regularly glancing back at Alicia, however, as though afraid she might just walk out). “Father was up late reading Aria stories, so he’s still asleep. I thought I’d just get this out the way for him before he wakes up.”

“Douglas is really lucky to have you,” Alicia comments, and means it. Mana laughs in response, a light and easy sound that puts Alicia at ease.

“It’s the least I can do. He’s the only dad I’ve got, you know? Even if he does drive me crazy sometimes.”

“What else is family for?”

“Can’t argue with that! Ha!”

There is a brief silence as Mana finishes unpacking the stock, but not an uncomfortable one. Finally, she lets out a satisfied sigh, stretches, and returns her full attention back to Alicia, her expression settled back into something more sombre.

“Look, Alicia, I don’t want to overstep, but I do have something I want to say.”

“Oh, am I in trouble now? Am I going to get extra homework?”

“Alicia! I’m being serious,” Though Mana rolls her eyes, a smile quirks at her lips. “I just want to say, it was nice to see you again. And I hope you’ll stop by again more often. I feel like ever since Kyle…” She trails off, hesitant for a moment, looking to Alicia as though for permission.

With a nod, she grants it.

“Ever since Kyle vanished, I’ve barely seen you. And I’m worried about you. I know you want to be there for Aria, but you can’t really be there if you don’t look after yourself, too.” 

“You sound like my mother did. Worse,  _ I  _ sounded like she did when Aria and I fought. Is everyone in this town just going to turn into her?”

“It’s proof you’re becoming  _ responsible _ ,” Mana teases, and Alicia mock-gags in response.

“I don’t even want to think of that word,” She grouses, leading Mana to laugh again.

“But you are,” She responds (with a very teacher-like smile, if Alicia were to put a name to that expression). “I know it’s not easy doing it alone, but there isn’t a person in this town who doubts how much you love Aria. We all do.”

“I know… Sometimes I don’t feel like it’s enough, though. I think that if Kyle were here, he’d know what to do… And I’m just barely keeping my head above water.”

“Well, let us help you swim then,” It’s such a simple statement, but it seems to knock the wind out of Alicia as she regards Mana in  _ wonder _ . “This is the first time you’ve told me  _ anything  _ about how you’ve been feeling since Kyle left, you know? You don’t have to bear it alone, Alicia.”

For what feels like the millionth time in the past two days, tears prickle at Alicia’s eyes. She refuses to have  _ another  _ crying fit this early in the morning, however, and pinches the bridge of her nose for a moment to collect herself.

“You should feel ashamed, making me cry at the crack of dawn,” She jabs instead, prompting Mana to roll her eyes again. “... But thank you. I’m certainly feeling better than I was last night, after being told off by  _ two people _ .”

“Good. Now, it’s time for me to start preparing today’s lessons, so I’m chasing you out,” As she passes Alicia on her way out, Mana gives her hand a quick squeeze. “Aria’s going to need you when she comes home, don’t you think?”

“I think you might be right,” Alicia agrees.

(The sun seems warmer when she leaves the store, somehow.)

* * *

She’s in the middle of impulsively sorting through her closet when she hears the door downstairs unlatch, followed shortly by little familiar footsteps.

Aria’s home. Which means it’s time to talk.

It’s a little embarrassing feeling  _ nervous  _ about the prospect, but nothing will get solved if she hides up here herself. So Alicia takes a deep, deep breath, and heads downstairs.

Aria’s back is to her when she arrives, standing in the kitchen doing… Nothing, apparently. Simply standing  _ alone _ like that, and it breaks Alicia’s heart.

She takes a deep breath.

“Welcome home, Aria,” 

The words are barely out her mouth when Aria  _ whirls  _ to face her, and for a moment-- for a moment she thinks, maybe her daughter is still  _ angry  _ with her-- 

But her eyes are filled with tears, and she wrenches out a sob that sounds something like “Mom!” as she all but flings herself into Alicia’s arms, and begins to cry her little heart out.

“Aria? Baby, what’s wrong?” As bewildered as Alicia is, moving to scoop her daughter up comes almost instinctively. Holding Aria close to her, Alicia finds that it is nearly  _ impossible _ to make out what her child is trying to tell her through how violent her sobs are. Almost automatically, her hand rises to card through Aria’s hair as she cries, hushing her gently in a bid to calm her down. 

For what feels like both forever and no time at all, Aria simply  _ cries _ . It’s only when the sobbing fades down into little quiet hiccups that Alicia tries again.

“Did something happen at school? Was it Jake’s kid? I can talk to Mana for you--”

“N-no,” Aria’s voice is faint, and Alicia briefly wonders if this is how she sounded to Natalie last night. What an odd thing to consider. “Nothing happened at school…”

“Do you want to talk about it?” It’s funny how easy it is to feel as though last night never happened, talking like this. Aria shakes her head, takes a deep breath--

“When I came home this morning to say sorry... You weren’t h-here.”

_ Oh. _

That simple sentence explains everything, but nonetheless Aria continues speaking, voice cracking with every word.

“I looked all over the house and the fields but you weren’t here! A-and I thought that you’d--” Another sob forces its way past her lips, and Alicia draws her closer to her, as though holding her as tightly as possible could stop her tears.

“I thought you’d left me, too.”

“Oh, Aria,” Her own tears come unbidden, overflowing almost immediately. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I went to stay with Grandma last night. I’m not going anywhere.”

“D-do you promise?”

“Of  _ course _ ,” As though to emphasise her point, Alicia presses a kiss to the top of Aria’s head. “I’m your mother. I will never, ever leave you. … And I’m sorry for shouting at you last night. But I need you to understand that I  _ worry  _ about you, Aria,” Here, she loosens her grip on her daughter just enough so she can look at her properly. “I’m just as scared of  _ you  _ not coming home one day. Neither of us want that, do we?”

“No!” Comes the enthusiastic agreement, punctuated by a sniffle. “I won’t stay out late anymore, Mom… Aunt Mana told me off for it too.”

“So I heard. As long as you understand, okay? I don’t ever want to see you hurt,” Finally releasing her daughter, Alicia takes a deep breath, and holds out her pinkie. “And we’ll swear on that promise. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. Promise?” 

“Promise!” Though her voice is still thick, a smile has finally found its way to Aria’s face, and the sight of it lightens Alicia’s heart considerably. 

(It really was so  _ easy  _ to fix this, wasn’t it? Kyle would be proud of her.

But more than that, Alicia feels proud of herself.)

“Now, I think we’ve both been crying  _ quite _ enough for one day,” Straightening back up, Alicia makes an executive decision. “I don’t know about you, but  _ I  _ could use some pudding.”

“There’s none in the fridge,” The answer comes automatically. Alicia quirks her eyebrow, and Aria does at least have the decency to look slightly embarrassed. “I was hungry when I came home so I checked…”

“As long as you didn’t eat it, I  _ suppose  _ that’s fine,” Alicia teases, before holding out her hand to her dear, precious daughter. “We’ll just have to get some more then. Will you come with me?”

“Of course, Mom!” 

It hasn’t been long at all, but it feels like forever since the last time she was allowed to hold her child’s hand.

Alicia decides she’d much rather avoid that from happening ever again.


	5. Chapter 5

The bed is cold when Alicia wakes up, but the sun filtering through the window is gentle and warm.

Spring is coming to a close, with summer soon to follow, bathing the house in pleasant warmth. It’s almost a struggle to get out of bed with how  _ nice  _ it is to be wrapped up and enjoying the sunlight, but she  _ does  _ have things to be doing, as much as she’d like to stay.

The cold water of the basin does serve to help her wake up, as do her one hundred strokes through her hair. By the time she’s finished getting dressed, Alicia feels downright  _ chipper _ even, which is certainly a rarity for this hour of the morning.

In the doorway of her bedroom, she hesitates just a moment before leaving. Just for a moment, she glances at the bed she’s left behind, with one side still immaculate from disuse.

For a moment, it’s as though she can see Kyle sitting there. 

For a moment, she imagines he is smiling at her.

That’s enough to keep her going, at least for now. Until the day she knows he’s come back to their family at last. 

Because he  _ will  _ come back. She knows in her heart, he will come back; every day it gets a little easier to believe in that.

Unsurprisingly, Aria is already in the kitchen by the time Alicia arrives, but what  _ is  _ surprising is the fact she’s been cooking. A plate of pancakes, remarkably unburnt, awaits her on the table, alongside Aria’s expectant and joyful expression.

“Good morning, Mom!” She enthuses, and Alicia swears if she had a tail, it’d be wagging. “Surprise! I made them myself. I practiced really hard, so they’re really good. Try some!”

“I think I’ll just have you cook every day,” Alicia jokes as she joins her daughter at the table. “If you’re anywhere near as good a cook as Kyle, I may as well just give up now.”

“Huh? But I love your cooking, Mom,” She looks genuinely confused, bless her sweet heart. “I’d be sad if I never got to eat it again…”

“Baby, I’m just kidding,” She reaches over the table to ruffle Aria’s hair, ignoring her squawk of displeasure. “But thank you for the treat. Why don’t we make something together for dinner tonight?”

“Sownds goof to meh!”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, Aria.”

With breakfast taken care of, all that’s left of Alicia’s morning routine is to walk Aria to school. Hand in hand, in comfortable silence, enjoying the heat of the late-spring day as the cherry blossom petals fall gently around them. 

Alicia almost doesn’t want it to end, but all too soon the school building comes into view. From here, she can just barely make out the figures of the other children in the schoolyard; Sera and Serena hovering around a (most likely) disgruntled Orland; Leonel and Leanne beneath one of the trees, collecting fallen petals; Roy and Cammy, halfway up another tree (as usual), but with an attentive gaze turned towards the younger children.

How lucky they are to have this school, Alicia thinks. Not just the children who attend it, but the town itself. How proud she is to have known and loved the man who worked so hard to see it built.

One day, she thinks, sneaking a glance down at their daughter (their daughter who looks so much like him in every way, but even has a little bit of  _ Alicia  _ in her, too). One day, Kyle will be walking next to them like this, and see what he brought into their little town. 

“Aria!” It’s Leanne’s voice that comes first, before the others finally notice her too. Sera and Serena immediately start running towards her, with Leonel struggling to keep up behind them. Leanne isn’t the athletic type, so she simply waves fervently, and Orland is very  _ obviously  _ feigning disinterest; the sight of it just fills Alicia’s heart with warmth as Aria disentangles herself from her mother’s hand and runs to them.

She’d make her father so proud. 

She’s already made Alicia more proud than she could ever know. That she’d grown into such a kind, loving young lady, who in turn is beloved by those around her, is more than Alicia could have ever asked for.

It feels wrong, somehow, to stay and watch them like this, as though she’s intruding on time only for them. But as she turns to leave, a cry of “Wait!” brings her to a halt.

Almost as fast as she’d ran to her friends, Aria runs back, nearly knocking Alicia over with the sheer force of the running hug she’d found herself in. For a moment, Aria remains there, squeezing her as hard as her little arms can, and then--

“I’ll be home soon, Mom. I love you!”

And for the first time in a long time, Alicia feels as though the sun has come out.


End file.
